Lyrics of Klaine
by allyouneedis
Summary: Short, Klaine-centric drabbles inspired by songs. Not a songfic. Ch 2 Carrying Your Love with Me - "I'll never say goodbye to you" But what happens when Blaine has to leave for a bit?
1. Call Me, Maybe

***Jumps on the song drabble bandwagon***

**So, here I am, writing more oneshots when I should be focusing on my WIPs :/ Well what can you do when you've got writer's ADD? You give the plot bunnies their way and hope they'll let you continue with your other stuff...**

**Anywhooo...These will be short, random, Klaine-centric drabbles based on songs. Variety of times/places. Rated T for now, might change.  
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**Song: Call Me, Maybe - Carly Rae Jepsen**

**Time: About half an hour**

**Mood: Relaxed  
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**Words: 512**

**Setting: Future!Klaine in NYC**

oOo**  
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"Here's my number. Call me, maybe."

Kurt took the slip of paper with the hastily scribbled phone number and slipped it into his back pocket, tossing a smile and a wink at the tall blonde. Turning on his heel, he sashayed away to the beat of the music, and he could feel the man's eyes on his ass the whole way. He took a seat with his back to the bar, leaning his elbows back on the sticky counter, surveying the room. It was full of sweaty, grinding, half-naked gay men, and the sensual music flooded through his veins,

A curly haired man sat next to him, ordered two drinks from the bar, and passed one to Kurt. "What're you at?"

"Five. You?"

"Six now." Blaine twirled a business card through his fingers before sliding it into his back pocket, throwing a smirk at Kurt.

"Someone's got his swag turned on tonight," Kurt commented dryly, sipping the martini Blaine had purchased for him.

Blaine leaned forward, his mouth ghosting across Kurt's ear. "I've got other things turned on too. Just wait till I get you home tonight."

"Careful, you'll ruin the game," Kurt said softly, then more loudly, "I'm not that kind of guy. Better luck next time." With that he took his drink and walked away, leaving his husband staring after him as he rejoined the swarm of writhing flesh.

The music took him away, and he danced and swayed with any body that happened to be in front of him, or behind him for that matter. He knew Blaine would watch him for a bit, then join the crowd himself.

The first time they visited a gay bar in New York, Kurt and Blaine were in for a bit of a culture shock. It was nothing like the seedy little Scandals that they were used to… No, the New York gay scene was an entirely different ball game. Within ten minutes of them being there, Kurt had been hit on by two hot, buff, scantily-clad men, and Blaine was ready to leave. Another ten minutes after that, Blaine had another guy's number, and Kurt was livid. It was the first time they went to bed angry. Kurt was the one to suggest the game, after it seemed that they might have to give up gay bars altogether if they couldn't get a handle on their jealousy. First one to get a number didn't have to buy the first round of drinks. That night when they got home, they had the hottest, roughest sex ever, and a new tradition was born. The wager changed every so often. Tonight, whomever got the most numbers got to top when they got home. If Kurt was throwing the game because he was craving Blaine inside him, well, Blaine didn't need to know.

A familiar set of hands wrapped around Kurt's waist, and a familiar shape was pressed into his ass. "Seven. Give up yet?"

"Take me home," Kurt replied, thrusting his ass back.

"God, I love you. I love that you're mine."

"Always yours."

oOo


	2. Carrying Your Love With Me

**Yup, I'm a country music girl :) Heard this song on the way to work and this is what it turned into.**

**Song: Carrying Your Love With Me – George Strait**

**Time: About an hour and a half at work, between actually working…**

**Mood: Bored**

**Words: 449**

**Setting: Future!Klaine in NYC**

oOo

"I'll have everything I'll ever need. I'm carrying your love with me."

Maybe it was a cheesy response to Kurt's question of '_you sure you have everything packed, hon?_' but then, Blaine always did get extra cheesy in the few days leading up to a roadtrip with the band. Kurt simply smiled and kissed his cheek, before responding with "My love won't keep your feet warm. Pack extra socks."

The lead singer obeyed, but not before giving his husband's ass a quick squeeze, barely dodging the playful slap aimed at his arm.

Fifteen minutes later, with Blaine's bags waiting by the door for his early morning departure, the two sat cuddled on the love seat, pretending to watch television.

"You should get to bed," Kurt murmured, "You have to wake up early."

"Mhmm," Blaine mumbled in agreement. Both of them knew he wouldn't, though. They would sit on the couch, soaking in each other's presence as long as possible. Eventually, Kurt would insist on putting Blaine to bed, and Blaine would only agree on the condition that Kurt came with him. They would retire to the bedroom, but they still wouldn't go to sleep. Kurt would forgo his nightly moisturizing routine, in favour of spending every last minute with his husband. Clothes would come off, slowly, as if to savour each inch of skin as it was revealed. The skin would be worshipped with hands and lips and tongues, slowly, completely.

It wasn't about sex. It might end up there, or it might not, but that wasn't the focus. It was about being together, appreciating each other, confirming their love with touches instead of words. It was about their bond, their connection, their devotion. It was about getting their fill of each other, to get through the separation.

When they were done, when it became too much and not enough, they would simply hold each other, legs tangled together, heads tucked into shoulders. They would breathe in each other's scent, waiting for the alarm to tell them it was time to get up. And still they would lie there until Blaine's phone rang, one of his bandmates telling him to get his ass downstairs already or they would leave without him. They couldn't, of course, since his was the singer, but Blaine would still rush to throw on some clothes. They wouldn't say goodbye, because they had spent the whole night saying goodbye, and they would share a quick kiss as Blaine ran out the door, as if they were going to see each other later that night.

That night, and each night after on their roadtrip, when Blaine got on stage, every song would be dedicated to Kurt.


End file.
